sneaked a glance at herself in her rearview mirror and almost groaned at the dirty gamine face reflected there. No wonder he was frowning.
“Hot out here,” he said, seemingly at random.
Or was he acknowledging that he understood why she looked like hell?
Maybe. But why didn’t he? she wondered resentfully. The sheen on his brow added to his masculine appeal. Even the smell of sweaty man was pleasing to a woman’s nostrils. Life wasn’t fair.
“So,” he asked in an idle, musing way, “have you ticked anybody off recently?”
“Not in the past couple of days,” Abby snapped.
He lifted a dark brow. “Try the past ten years.”
“I was a firefighter until last fall. I don’t make people mad as often as you do.”
He stayed leaning against the fender, relaxed, his stillness annoying her as much as his questions. She felt wound tight. If it weren’t so hot, she’d have been out of the car pacing. As it was...
“You want to get in, so I can turn on the air-conditioning?” she asked.
He looked surprised, which also irked her. Man, impervious to climactic conditions, was reminded of the frailty of mere Woman.
Detective Shea shrugged, as if to humor her. “Why not?”
“I hate heat,” she muttered when he got in.
“Move to the coast,” he suggested.
Cannon Beach with its rearing sea stack, rocky beach and cool afternoon fog sounded blissful to her right now.
“Winters there are dreary.” She turned on the ignition and cranked up the air-conditioning. “I like to ski. Besides, my family is here.”
“Speaking of which...”
“Yeah, yeah.” Abby gazed out the windshield at the straight empty road. Not a car had passed since he arrived. “I just can’t imagine Shirley having made anybody mad. Have you met her?”
“Yeah, she works part-time at the library. Nice lady.”
“You read?” she asked in mock astonishment before thinking better of it.
“Learned in first grade.”
Unaccustomed to feeling graceless, Abby said, “I was kidding.”
“Uh-huh.”
Chagrined, she decided it was best get back to the subject at hand. “Unless Shirley made somebody mad when she phoned about their overdues, it’s hard to imagine how she can be the target of this.”
“I agree. Although appearances can be deceptive.”
“I know her.”
The narrow-eyed glance he flicked Abby’s way was impatient. “What, the Patton clan is without sin?”
Abby wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel, feeling the need to steady herself. “No,” she said slowly. “My father was...not universally liked.”
“So Meg says.”
“But he’s dead,” she argued, making the point to herself more than him.
“Yup.”
Abby let out a huff of air. “This is pointless.”
“You’re right,” he said agreeably. “All we can do is our jobs, and then wait and see.”
“Right.”
Detective Shea cleared his throat. “Abby? I’m freezing.”
“Really?” She turned to look at him in surprise. As far as she was concerned, the temperature had just gotten pleasant.
He’d tucked his hands in his armpits. “You had your metabolism checked lately?”
“Maybe your blood’s too thin,” she suggested. “You ever thought of moving to Arizona?”
“I don’t mind seasons.” He reached for the door handle. “My body just doesn’t much like changes that are too abrupt. An icy oasis of winter in the middle of a July day is a shock to the system.”
“No, it’s a blessed relief.”
“Uh-huh.” He seemed to like saying that, in a tone that indicated anything but agreement. Relief infused his voice when he added, “Ah. Here comes the cavalry.”
Abby suddenly had an itch to leave. Just drive away. She’d done her part. If murder had been committed, the arson had been no more than a failed effort to cover it up. She liked solving puzzles, but this one wasn’t her kind. As Ben Shea had said, it was personal. It seemed to be tapping at the door to her subconscious, saying, Want to think about long ago? Remember nights of terror and tears?
Well, no thanks, she didn’t. The past wasn’t something she thought about much. She left worrying to her sisters. She didn’t like to get too emotional about anything.
And no creep with a grudge was going to shake her foundations.
“Do you need me to stick around?” Abby asked, giving in to her restlessness.
Looking briefly surprised, then thoughtful, Shea stopped with the passenger side door open. Hot air shoved in. “Nah. I can stay. You have another job?”
“Fifteen.” She lifted her contractor-style clipboard. “That’s assuming nobody torches any other cars or buildings today.”
“Thunderstorm’s building up over the mountains.” He nodded toward Juanita Butte and the Sisters. “Nature’s going to do some torching of her own this evening.”
She glanced uneasily over her shoulder toward town and the mountains beyond. Dark clouds climbed above them. She was just as glad she wouldn’t be called out tonight when a spear of lightning set the dry woods aflame.
“I’ll be in touch.” She handed him her card.
He nodded, taking it and producing one of his own. Then he climbed out and hesitated with his hand on the car door. She felt his gaze, turned to meet it. For just a second something as intense as those white bolts of lightning crackled between them.
The next instant he’d shuttered the sheer force of that look and Abby wondered if she’d imagined it.
“You do that,” he agreed, and slammed the door.
Shaken, she watched him saunter away, strides long and easy, his broad shoulders formidable, his butt—Abby exclaimed aloud. For Pete’s sake, they were working together, not getting involved!
You can admire, a little voice in her head whispered.
“No,” Abby told herself, “I can’t.”
Dating
